You Know What They Say About Hate
by Animegoil
Summary: The night they graduate from Raijin, there is a party. Just because Shizuo's the only one who can't be manipulated by Izaya doesn't mean he hasn't tried. One-shot.


**Damn Shizuo and Izaya. I really should be working on my DGM stuff, but Izaya is just... mind-boggling and crazy and addicting and I keep coming up with a million and one scenarios with him and Shizuo that go beyond the usual cat-dog fights of theirs. **

**Enjoy! **

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**_You Know What They Say About Hate...   
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The night of graduation, there was a party.

Izaya was invited, of course. Whether because he knew so many people and it was only natural, or because they were afraid of not inviting him was up for debate, but he didn't mind. He would have crashed the party anyway. There were so many things to play with here… classmates, strippers, drug dealers, and a general plethora of alcohol to blend all those forces into one cohesive blob of disaster and delicious opportunity. He had spotted Shinra already, tipsy and waggling his eyebrows at anyone who approached him, and if Shinra was here, then most likely someone else was too. Izaya narrowed his eyes and scanned the room, noting each and every person for future reference, until his eyes finally found the one person he was looking for.

"Even though you weren't invited, I'm glad to see you're here, Shizu-chan," Izaya smirked, approaching the figure swaying slightly in a dark corner of the room. The blast of the music forced him to raise his voice and strain to hear the blond's response.

"Fuck off… louse…"

Izaya raised his eyebrows, noting the flush to the blond's cheeks and the reek of alcohol clouding him. He'd have to congratulate Shinra on nudging Shizuo this far. Izaya cackled.

"Shouldn't you be using this opportunity, Shizu-chan?" Izaya taunted him, keeping just out of range, "Surely you could find one girl drunk enough in this mess that she'd be willing to sleep with you?"

Shizuo roared, hand grabbing at the nearest item to pull off, which in this case happened to be a doorknob. But, surprisingly, much as he pulled, the door did nothing other than rattle slightly. Shizuo stared at his hand like it had suddenly turned invisible. Izaya's grin widened even further.

"Oh, what's this, Shizu-chan? Alcohol apparently acts like your Kryptonite, hmm?"

And dulls his agility, Izaya thought gleefully, spinning just out of range of the blond's fist. The music thrummed around them, a hypnotizing electric beat, and Izaya let it guide his movements. A few more well-placed twirls, and Shizuo had lost his own balance, stumbling backwards onto one of the couches that lay in the large lounge. Izaya laughed and peeked his head over the back of the couch, watching as Shizuo closed his eyes and moaned, looking like he was about to throw up any moment.

"What are you without your strength, Shizu-chan?" Izaya whispered, leaning over to ghost his lips over the shell of his ear. Shizuo shuddered and tried to grab Izaya, though it ended up being more of a swat, but Izaya moved out of the way and danced to the other side of the couch, enjoying the way the lights shone on the contours of Shizuo's face. He brushed his lips against the other ear, flicking his tongue against his earlobe and enjoying the strangled sound that came out of Shizuo's throat and the way his hands fisted and his body tensed, "And this is why you need me, Shizu-chan. I can give you what your strength cannot give you. You will not be able to rely on your body forever—and there's so little your body can do to help your little brother, anyway. And that's what you want the most, right? Your little brother's happiness?" Izaya placed a hand on the ridge of Shizuo's collarbone, slim fingers sliding slick along the sweat that was pooling there, and lowered his mouth to flutter his breath _just so_ against the corner of Shizuo's mouth, "I can guarantee Kasuka a successful career."

Shizuo opened his mouth, panting for a moment, and Izaya was tempted to bite that tongue, hard enough to draw just a trickle of blood, and then suckle it. Izaya had been with many men and women, even at this age, but none of them enticed him the way this classmate of his did. But Shizuo grit his teeth and opened his eyes, and even though the haze of alcohol shone like a veil over his eyes, and his face was pale and sweating, his voice was definite, with finality like a guillotine's blade or the metal clank of a gate slamming shut, and it made Izaya shiver and his hands still over the blond's face.

"My brother doesn't need anyone's help to be successful. And I don't want anything that you can offer me."

And that was when Izaya began to hate Shizuo in earnest. Of course, he called it 'hate' because really, it was unkind to like _one_ human above the rest. He didn't want to show favoritism, after all. And hate—hate was such an interesting emotion. All humans claimed to love, and to do things in the name of love. Izaya himself loved humanity, and it showered him with its love every day. But hate? Hate was like love in so many ways – destructive, obsessive, passionate. Izaya had never experienced hate before. He thought it appropriate for this Heiwajima Shizuo, who was so different from all other humans, to have the one emotion he'd never accorded to any other human. Now, Izaya could guiltlessly obsess over him, separately from all other humans, because clearly, he _hated_ Heiwajima Shizuo.

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**I don't see how Izaya doesn't see how special Shizuo must be for him to be the _only_ human he hates. ;) **


End file.
